


A Promise to Survive (post 4x08 ficlet)

by Redicefields



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: cs drabble, cs fanfic, cs ff, cs ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:39:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redicefields/pseuds/Redicefields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a post 4x08/9 ficlet that I forgot I had written. Two short scenes that take place after Emma chooses to accept herself and her magic, and refuses to use the Sorcerer's hat. CS angst (Killian's perspective) & Emma/Snow bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise to Survive (post 4x08 ficlet)

Killian’s shoulders pressed into his door at Granny’s, heavy and tense. He brought his hand to his temples, collecting himself while trying to ignore the dull absence in his chest. Bloody Crocodile. He cursed, and slammed his fist into the door behind him, but even his rage felt distant and dulled. I’m a bloody fool.

After a moment, he walked into the spartan room, discarding the wretched sorcerer’s hat on the small writing desk. The hat was heavy, despite its size, and Killian felt the weight of it fill up the whole room. You’re going to be my puppet. The Dark One’s threat echoed in his mind. He wondered for a moment what kind of lives had already been lost inside the dark object. And what kind of lives he might be forced to destroy at the behest of the Crocodile.

Emma. Her face flashed in his mind. The Crocodile wouldn’t dare force that act on him, Killian was certain. He’d tried to manipulate her into making it seem as if stripping herself of magic (and any other unexpected effects) were her own choice. She was too important a figure in Storybrooke to simply take- it would draw too much attention too soon. Killian smiled despite himself, recalling his relief earlier that evening when he realized that she’d saved herself (she always does). He’d embraced her and kissed her, forgetting the emptiness in his chest for that brief moment. He couldn’t bear that kind of loss again.

He moved to sit on his neatly made bed, exhausted. And now he was going to force that sense of loss on Emma when the Dark One was through with him. Killian cursed again, roughly removing his jacket and taking a swig out of his familiar flask. That bastard has taken everything from him. Milah. His Hand. His life and purpose for the past 200 years. Now his heart. His confession. His promise to survive. The rum started to warm him, but like everything else, the sensation felt dim.

He laid back on the bed, still dressed, wanting to rest. He should make a plan, come up with some way to escape this-entrapment, this loss of control. But he felt tired. He had been up all the night before searching for Emma with her family and Elsa. The day’s developments had also strained him emotionally and physically. Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would be like if here were partaking in a joyous reunion with the woman he loved so desperately, who nearly sacrificed herself today; instead, he is skulking around dark manors with goddamn magic bloody hats, lying, and drinking alone.

His phone vibrates in his jacket pocket, which was tossed at his side. He fished out the phone- Emma. He clenches his teeth and inhales deeply. He lets it ring and go to voicemail.

***

“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s face appeared at the top of the loft stairs. “We’re about to have dinner- ready to come down?”

Emma hung up the phone when it reached the voicemail alert and her brows knitted in concern. Where had he disappeared to? She glanced up at Mary Margaret, distracted, “Yeah, Mom. In a minute.”

Mary Margaret gave her a concerned glance, and she finished climbing the stairs. She sat down next to her daughter and reached for her hand. “Emma. I cannot begin to apologize for my behavior lately.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she squeezed her hand in Mary Margaret’s. “What? Mom, we’ve talked about this already. You don’t need to apologize. I understand.”

“No, Emma, I do.” She insisted. “Not just for my reactions with Neal, and with David at the Sheriff’s station. When you called and told us you were going to get rid of your magic- we thought we were doing the right thing by letting you make that choice.”

Mary Margaret’s eyes dropped for a moment, “But we were still fooling ourselves. You only felt that you had to do that because of us. Because of me. I know that choice was yours, and Emma, I do support your ability to make your own choices. I do. But that was one you never should have had to make. It should never have crossed your mind. To erase a part of yourself that is so wonderful, that is a literal representation of this family’s love. It was wrong of me. And I hope you can forgive me.”

Emma felt a shiver of conflicting emotions as she listened to her mother’s entreaty. Mary Margaret’s eyes were clear and strong as she looked straight into Emma’s, which had started to prick with tears. “Of course I forgive you,” Emma whispers, letting herself lean into her mother’s embrace.

“I can’t believe it took Regina to make me see it,” Mary Margaret sighed. Emma smiled, and even choked out a laugh.

“Well, at least that’s some good news.” Emma released her mother with a playful grin.

Mary Margaret sighed, seeming both relieved and content. “Were you calling Hook, when I came up?”

Emma startled for just a moment, then relaxed. “Yeah, actually. He disappeared after that whole deal at the manor.” She glanced at her feet, “It was weird actually. You know, he seemed so relieved to see me, but he seemed a little…I don’t know….off?” Emma looked back up to meet her mother’s gaze. “Did you notice anything earlier?”

Mary Margaret’s brows knitted. “You know, he was with us all night looking for you. I think he went to look for his phone in David’s truck and then….” Mary Margaret thought for moment, “I guess he just didn’t come back inside. If I were to guess, he went looking for you on his own. He did seem as anxious as any of us.”

Emma took this information in. “How did he find me before you all?” Her mother shrugged uncertain, “I’m not really sure.”

Emma’s eyes darkened for a moment. “He must’ve gone to Gold’s shop. That’s the only thing that makes sense. I wonder how he knew….”

Mary Margaret stood up and beckoned, “Come on, Emma. Dinner’s getting cold and David made his special….Shepard’s pie!” Emma rolled her eyes and stood up to follow her mother down the stairs. “Okay, Mom. But I gotta go somewhere afterwards.”


End file.
